


Sinking Like A Stone

by eternaleponine



Series: From the Mouths of Babes [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Foster Care, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-24 03:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15621783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: It's been five months since Lexa was placed in foster care and neighbor Clarke decided they were going to be BFFs.  Just as she's starting to feel at home, her past comes back to haunt her, and she's taken in the middle of the night.  What will it take to go home again, and at what cost?





	1. Chapter 1

Lexa woke up to what felt, at first, like an earthquake. Or what she imagined an earthquake would feel like, since she'd never actually experienced one that she knew of. (And if she didn't know, it couldn't have been much of an earthquake, right?) Once her brain caught up to what she was feeling, though, she realized it was just Anya shaking the bed, or her, or both. 

"Come on," Anya hissed, her mouth so close to Lexa's ear that she could feel her breath against her cheek. "You need to wake up. You need to _get_ up. You need to get out of here and you need to hide." 

The words were enough to turn her blood to ice and her limbs to lead, just for a second before instinct kicked in and she unfroze. She kicked off her covers and reached into the bottom drawer of her dresser, yanking out the pants she'd been wearing when they'd taken her away from home... what used to be home... and brought her here. The ones with all the pockets for her to keep her most important supplies in, because you were less likely to lose your pants than your pack. 

She slipped into them and realized that they were tighter now than they had been when she arrived, and shorter, too. She guessed she should have known they would be; she had more and better food here than she ever had before, so she'd grown out as well as up. Not too much, but enough that she could feel the button digging into her skin when she leaned over to put on her hiking boots... which pinched her toes. She grimaced and forced her feet in anyway. 

Anya pressed her emergency pack into her arms, and Lexa's cheeks got hot. She'd thought she'd done a good job of hiding it, but Anya had found it anyway. She quickly unzipped it to check inside. 

"I didn't touch anything," Anya said. "I swear."

"I know," Lexa said. She trusted Anya, as much as she trusted anyone, and more than most people. If Anya said that she hadn't messed with anything inside the bag, then she hadn't. Why would she, anyway? Anya _liked_ her. Otherwise why would she be warning her?

"Here," Anya said. She yanked her favorite hoodie from the closet and tugged it on over Lexa's head, quickly rolling up the sleeves. "Since we can't get to your coat." 

"Thank you," Lexa said. She wanted to ask what was going on, but from the way Anya was acting, there wasn't time. Whatever was happening was happening fast, and she needed to act now and ask questions later. She swallowed hard, trying to push back the thought that there might not be a later to ask. If she ran, she would have to keep running. Coming back here would only put her, and everyone around her, in danger. 

There was a soft knock on the door as Anya pushed the window open as far as it could go, then a more insistent one as she slid up the window screen as well, so there was nothing between them and the sharp night air that smelled faintly of woodsmoke. 

The doorknob rattled. There was no lock on it, but Anya had wedged a chair underneath the knob to keep anyone who got any ideas out. Lexa looked at the door, then out the window and down. 

_Don't look down,_ she thought, even as she eyed the ground. _Never look down._

But she had to look down, because she had to gauge how far the drop was, and whether she was likely to make it without injuring herself. She knew that there was math for it, for how hard she would hit the ground, and she knew that rolling would help disburse the impact, but how could she roll with a big bag on her back? She could always send the bag out first, then grab it when she hit the ground, or have Anya toss it to her when she was out. Maybe Anya could even hold her by the wrists to let her dangle a little lower, reducing the distance she had to fall, which would also reduce the impact. 

"Open the door, please." It was Becca, her voice muffled by the door, and the fact that she was obviously trying not to speak too loudly for fear of waking up the littles or Murphy, either of which would have made the situation worse. 

"Go!" Anya said. 

"I won't fit with my bag. Or I might, but—"

"I'll throw it down to you," Anya said. "Just _go_."

Lexa squeezed herself between the two nightstands, nudging them out of the way as she tried to figure out the best way through the window. It had always seemed like a reasonably sized window, but now it seemed way too small. _Way_ too small. Not that she was that big herself, but...

"Anya, open the door _right now_ ," Becca said, not so quiet now. Neither was the sound the chair made when the pressure from the door made it scrape across the floor, until it got caught up on the rug and refused to budge. 

"Quick," Anya whispered. "Before they figure out—"

Lexa stuck one leg out the window, looking down again... and discovered that this had just gotten more complicated. They – whoever they were, they weren't dressed like police, but they didn't look particularly _friendly_ , either – had already figured it out. There was a big man with a walkie-talkie clipped to his belt standing under the window, hands on hips. But he wasn't looking up, so if she could angle herself just right, she might be able to crash into him, tackle him, and get a head start on running. He didn't look like he would be a very fast runner, judging from the way his gut bulged over his belt. 

But that wouldn't give her time to wait for Anya to toss her her bag. Maybe if she threw a blanket at him, he would get tangled up in it long enough to buy her the time she needed to get away... but that was the kind of thing that happened in cartoons; it wasn't real life. A net would tangle him, maybe, but not a blanket. Not for long enough. 

"Now, Anya!" Becca said, loud enough that the other kids were sure to wake up, and they were going to catch hell for that in the morning. They might get grounded, or extra chores, or both. Or worse. 

No, not they. Anya. Just Anya, because Lexa wouldn't be there to be punished, which was the whole point. But where was she supposed to go? She'd gotten complacent about mapping exit strategies over the last few months. 

The man's walkie crackled, and she looked down in time to see him looking right back at her. She'd missed her window – no pun intended. It hissed to life as he said, "I've got her here."

Lexa's shoulders slumped in defeat, and she pulled her leg back inside. "What—" Anya started to say, pushing past her to look out the window, and then she let out a string of curses that Lexa was pretty sure she'd never heard before, and she had heard plenty of swearing, especially when the men got into the moonshine.

"Now, Anya," Miss Becca said. 

Anya looked at Lexa, and Lexa forced her shoulders back and nodded. Whatever was going to happen, she wouldn't let them see that she was afraid. She tried to tell herself that she _wasn't_ afraid, that she knew everything she needed to know to survive anything that came her way, that she'd been taught everything she needed to know... but she knew that she was lying to herself. She didn't even know half of everything she needed to know, because the world she'd been prepared for wasn't the real world. 

Anya moved the chair, and the door burst open. Behind Miss Becca was a man and a woman, and they weren't cops either. The woman wore a skirt and a jacket and carried a big folder that looked like it was stuffed full of papers. She had dark circles under her eyes like she hadn't slept in a long time, but she still made her face into a smile for Lexa. 

"Oh good," the man said. "You're packed. Let's go. It's late and I'd actually like to get home before tomorrow." 

"She's not packed," Anya said. "That's her school bag."

"What is she—" the man started, but stopped at the woman's look. 

"You'll need to pack up quick then," she said, still with that fake smile, and she was trying to sound like all of this was normal and none of it was a big deal, but that was fake too, and they all knew it. "Just a few changes of clothes." 

"Where are you taking her?" Anya demanded. "You can't take her. She—"

"Enough," Miss Becca said. "It's just for a little while." 

That was a lie, too. Everyone was lying about everything, and Lexa didn't like it, but she didn't know how to make them tell the truth, either. She'd never learned that, because they'd taken her away before she could. She knew how to tell when people were lying, and she knew how to make it so no one would know if she was, sort of, mostly, but getting the truth out of people when they didn't want to tell it was something that you didn't learn until you were older, like maybe twelve or thirteen. 

"You've got five minutes," the man said. "I'm serious. Pack your sh—stuff, say your goodbyes, and we've gotta go." He looked at Anya, his eyes narrowed. "And don't even think about trying to run again," he said. "It won't work."

"Listen, you fuck—"

Miss Becca stepped between Anya and the man, a hand held out to both to keep either of them from lunging. She gave Anya a hard look, then the man a harder one. "Please go downstairs," she said, "before you wake the other children. We will meet you down there in a few minutes."

He didn't look happy about it, but he did back off. Miss Becca watched him go, then turned around, angrier than Lexa had ever seen her. "Do you think you're helping?" she asked Anya. "Because you're not. Not Lexa, and not yourself. You need – I need you to trust me right now. I know you don't want to, but I need you to. If you have another outburst, it may get back to family services, and they may decide that this isn't the right placement for you anymore. Do you understand?"

Lexa looked at Anya and saw that her normally golden skin had gone grayish. She didn't say anything, but she nodded once, a jerk of her chin, but kept glaring at Miss Becca, who stared right back, unblinking. "Good," she said. "Help Lexa pack some things, please." 

Lexa saw the way Anya's jaw clenched, the muscles in her neck bulging, but she didn't say anything. When Miss Becca was gone, she grabbed as much as she could from Lexa's drawers and crammed it into a duffel bag. It only took a minute, maybe two, and Lexa just watched, not sure what else to do. After she yanked the zipper closed (almost ripping the pull right off) she wrapped her arms around Lexa, tight, and Lexa could feel her shaking. 

"You'll be—" Anya started to say, and Lexa knew she was going to say 'okay' but that was a lie and they both knew there had been too many of those tonight already. She let her go, but only so she could shove her into the desk chair. She grabbed her hairbrush and began to work the tangles that had formed in her sleep out of Lexa's hair before braiding it slowly and carefully for (probably) the last time. 

"There," Anya said softly, flipping the ends of the braids over her shoulders. "There you go." 

Lexa stood up and threw herself into Anya's arms again, her breath hitching out of control. Anya rubbed her back until she could breathe again, and set her back on her heels, gently pushing back her shoulders to remind her to stand tall and be strong. 

"Will you tell Clarke goodbye for me?" Lexa finally managed. "Tell her thank you for being my friend and I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer and... and..." She sniffed. "That's all, I guess. Just tell her that."

"I will," Anya promised. She followed Lexa down the stairs, carrying the duffel she packed, and right out to the car, where she placed it where Lexa's feet would be even though the trunk was open, like she didn't trust that they would give it to her if it was out of her sight. She stood next to Miss Becca, who didn't try to hug Lexa or reassure her that things would be okay, that this was only temporary, that she would be back. Maybe she knew that Lexa didn't want those things from her, or maybe she just didn't know how to lie so people would believe it. 

Lexa got into the car and the door was shut behind her. She buckled her seatbelt when she was told to and kept her eyes on Anya for as long as she could. 

They didn't drive past Clarke's house, and that was probably a good thing, because Lexa was pretty sure if they had, if she'd looked and seen Clarke's window, or the treehouse, or any of it, her heart would have shattered into more pieces than she could ever put back together.

* * *

As soon as the car pulled away, Anya turned on Miss Becca and swung. The blow was wild, and her foster mother caught her arm before it could land. She was stronger than Anya had given her credit for and knew exactly where to dig her fingers in to send pins and needles up and down Anya's arm. 

"Is this really what you want to do right now?" Miss Becca asked. "Out here in the open where anyone can see?" 

Anya squirmed, freeing herself from Miss Becca's grip, and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "I don't give a fuck," she said. "Why should I?"

"Because last I checked, I was your last stop before a group home," Miss Becca responded. "Where you wouldn't get away with half of what you do here." 

"I don't get away with shit," Anya said. "I follow your fucking rules all the fucking time. I do my fucking chores and I do my fucking homework and I don't yell at the littles even when they make a fucking mess that I have to clean up, and I when I go out I'm always back before curfew so fuck you and your 'all the stuff you get away with' shit." 

Miss Becca raised her eyebrows but didn't say anything, and Anya knew it was because she was swearing, and knew that she was making a point about letting her get away with things by not calling her out on it, but she didn't care. 

"You let her go!" she snapped. "How the fuck could you let her go?!"

Miss Becca sighed. "They didn't give me a choice," she said. "Trust me, I didn't want to. But I knew from the start that when it got to trial, they—" She stopped herself. 

"What trial?" Anya asked. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Had Lexa done something? No... if she'd done something, she would be in juvenile detention, not here. Which meant something had been done _to_ her, and... Anya's stomach roiled, and she swallowed back the sour spit that came before your stomach revolted and made you relive whatever your last meal had been in reverse. 

"I shouldn't have said that," Miss Becca said. "Like I said before, I need you to trust me. I know that's hard, and I know you don't want to, but have I ever lied to you before?"

Anya shrugged, then shook her head, afraid to open her mouth as her mind filled with images of all the things that could happen to a kid when people decided that they weren't looking out anymore. You didn't end up in foster care if there was anyone in the world who cared about you, after all. Not for long, anyway. 

"It's only temporary," Miss Becca said. "She'll come back."

"Bullshit," Anya spat. "Don't try and tell me that, because you know it's not true. You know that once a kid is gone, they never come back." 

"It's not," Miss Becca said in her calmest, most reasonable voice. The voice she used when she was trying to placate a toddler throwing a tantrum. "Not this time. It's my responsibility to keep all of you safe, and I take that seriously. Unfortunately, right now that means that she can't stay here for a little while."

"Why?" Anya demanded. "Just fucking tell me why! If you want me to trust you, give me a reason!"

"I'm sorry," Miss Becca said. "I can't do that. Legally, I can't do that." 

"Then why should I believe you?" Anya shouted. "You fucking let her go! You made me let her go! You told me she was my responsibility, that I had to take care of her, and then you turn around and say, 'No, Anya, she's gotta go. It's for her own good.' But you _know_ that's bullshit! You know that what is for her own good, what's best for her, is to be here!" 

"I know," Miss Becca said. "Anya, I do know that, and I wish that I could explain to you why this is happening, but I can't. And I'm sorry if that damages your trust in me, but I'm asking you to just try to hang on to it for a little longer. She will be back."

"You don't know that," Anya said, sniffing back tears that she refused to shed. "Even if they say it, you don't know it for sure. They could change their minds and send her somewhere else, and you couldn't do a damn thing about it!"

"I would fight it," Miss Becca said. "I would do everything that I could to fight it. This is her home now. This is where she belongs." 

"Even if she does come back—" Anya started, but stopped herself. She couldn't say it, because if she said it, it might make it true... except it probably was already true. How could it not be, when people had come and stolen her away from her home in the middle of the night? Even if Lexa came back, she might not be – probably wouldn't be – the same. 

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Miss Becca said. "Come inside. I'll start some cocoa if you go check on the littles." 

Anya shook her head. "I don't want any," she said. "And fuck the littles." There was no way in hell she was even thinking about getting attached to another kid, ever again. She shoved open the door and stomped upstairs. "And fuck you!" she shouted as loud as she could, slamming her door and wedging the chair back under the knob. 

She let the sound of one of one of the littles starting to cry and a pillow mask her own impotent screams.

* * *

"Pass," Clarke said when it was her turn to say something she was thankful for. 

"Clarke," her mom said. "Please."

"Pass," she said again. 

"Come on, Clarke," her dad said. "You can't think of—"

"SOMEONE STOLE MY BEST FRIEND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!" Clarke shouted, slamming her fists down on the edge of the table hard enough that her silverware rattled and the water in her glass sloshed, soaking the tablecloth. "So _no_ , I can't think of one single thing to be thankful for! _Pass._ "

"You may be excused," her mother said. "Go to—"

"Abby," Nana said gently. "Do you—"

"It's fine," Clarke said, standing up and shoving her chair into the table. This time her water glass fell over completely. "I'm not hungry anyway." She went upstairs and shut herself in her room, throwing herself down on the bed and pounding it with her fists and feet until she was too tired to keep going, and then laying there with her face stuck to the spot on the bedspread that had soaked through with tears and probably snot. She didn't care. She didn't care about anything. Not with Lexa gone.

It had been a week. Seven entire days since Lexa hadn't shown up at the bus stop, and at first she'd thought that she had an appointment that she'd forgotten to tell Clarke about, so every time the door opened at school she'd expected it to be Lexa coming in late with a little slip from the office. When she still hadn't shown up by the end of the day, she'd run straight from the bus stop to Miss Becca's house. Anya had answered the door... and that's when she found out that Lexa had been taken, and Miss Becca said she would come back, but Clarke could tell from Anya's face that she didn't believe it. 

"Did you call the police?" Clarke had asked. "That's what you do when someone gets kidnapped!"

Anya had just shaken her head. "It's not like that," she'd said, but she couldn't say what it _was_ like, and then she'd said that Lexa had told her to tell Clarke goodbye, and she was—but Clarke hadn't wanted to hear it so she shoved her fingers into her ears and ran home. 

The next day at school her teacher had decided it was time to move their desks and Clarke had wanted to scream at him that he couldn't, that if he did Lexa wouldn't know where to sit when she came back, but she knew that if she yelled, she would get sent to the principal's office. But then her teacher had put Lexa way in the back corner, as far as she could be from Clarke, practically, and maybe it was because he knew that Lexa wasn't coming back but he couldn't just take the name tag off her desk yet, and Clarke had just put her head down and refused to participate for the rest of the day until she'd ended up in the guidance counselor's office. 

Her parents had tried to talk to her that night, tried to tell her that everything was going to be okay and that Lexa wouldn't want her to act like this, but they didn't know what Lexa would want. The only person who knew that was Lexa, and she wasn't here to tell them. But she'd nodded until they stopped talking and then she'd gone out to the treehouse and stayed there until it was dark and cold and her father came looking for her and made her come inside. 

She did the same thing every day, except without putting her head down on her desk so she didn't get sent to the counselor, but she didn't raise her hand or volunteer to read out loud or do anything at all, and then she'd do her homework in the treehouse and stay there until she had to come in for dinner, and after dinner she went back to the treehouse if her parents let her, or to her room if they didn't, and all the time she was thinking about where Lexa was and if she was okay and if she was thinking of Clarke and missing her as much as she was missing Lexa. 

Her door opened but she didn't lift her head off the mattress, even when it jiggled when someone sat down, and then leaned over to put their back on her hand, rubbing in circles. It didn't feel like Mom or Dad, so it had to be Nana. 

"My best friend moved away when—"

Clarke sat up so fast Nana blinked at her in surprise, her mouth in a little O shape. "She didn't _move away_ ," she said. "She was _taken_ , but no one will tell me who took her or why or where, and they say she'll come back but not when, and I think they might be lying, and I think she might be in danger, and—"

"I'm sure that she's fine," Nana said. "Her parents—"

"She doesn't _have_ parents," Clarke interrupted. "She has a foster mother. That's all. And she just let them take her! That's what Anya said. Lexa's foster sister. She said that Miss Becca let them take Lexa, and she's the one who says that Lexa will come back but Anya doesn't believe her so neither do I, and they didn't tell the police so no one is looking for her and they _should_ be."

Nana sighed. "You need to trust that the adults know what they're doing, Clarke," she said. "Your parents love you, and I'm sure that Lexa's foster mother cares about her, too, and wouldn't let her be taken by just anyone."

Clarke crossed her arms, sticking out her chin. She wanted to say something mean, but she didn't. She just stared at Nana for so long without saying anything that Nana finally sighed and got up. "If they say everything is going to be fine, it will be," Nana said. "Your parents wouldn't lie to you."

Clarke just shrugged. 

"If you want to come downstairs, we're going to have pie."

Were they having Thanksgiving where Lexa was? Did she get pie? 

Probably not. Good people didn't steal kids, and bad people didn't have pie. 

She flopped back down on the mattress, now cold as well as clammy against her skin. "Pass," she said, and didn't move again until Nana was gone.

* * *

Lexa had been in this new house – a group home, the lady-child snatcher had called it – for a week. It pretended like it was a home, but it wasn't really. There were too many kids and too few adults, and even though there were plenty of people here, it didn't look like anyone actually _lived_ here. Not for long anyway. This was the kind of place where you lived between real places, or when there was nowhere else to go, or... She didn't know. She just knew she hated it. It wasn't even like the dorms where she'd lived with the other kids before, which had felt like home because they had _been_ home. 

None of the other kids were here, even though she knew that they were _somewhere_ , because the people who came and talked to her – social workers and lawyers and doctors and a shrink – told her that that's what this was about. What had happened to them when they all lived together. Before. That's why she was here. 

And that's why she wasn't talking. Because she'd been taught not to, no matter what happened. If the enemy caught you, you kept your mouth shut. You didn't give them anything. Even if they tortured you. Not that they were torturing her here, unless you counted their high-pitched _concerned_ voices as torture. 

They'd taken a break yesterday, because it was Thanksgiving, but they were back again today. Lexa sat down across the table from a lady who she was pretty sure was a lawyer, and another lady who she was pretty sure was just here to make sure that the lawyer didn't upset her too much or something. 

But she wasn't going to get upset. She wasn't even listening to anything that they were saying, and she could tell that the lawyer was getting frustrated, and finally she leaned back in her chair so far that two of the legs came off the floor, because they made a loud enough noise that Lexa flinched despite herself when they came back down.

"Don't you want to go home?" she asked. Lexa blinked, said nothing. She wasn't going home. She didn't even know where that was anymore. Growing up, she'd thought she'd known, but then strangers had come and even though they'd fought, they'd all fought as hard as they could, just like they'd been trained to, there were too many of them and they had guns and they were so much bigger, and they'd all been taken away and she'd ended up at Miss Becca's, and she'd been sure that that would never feel like home, but...

"I know you don't want to stay here forever. You seemed pretty determined not to come in the first place, from what I heard. Tried to jump out a second story window." She laughed like she couldn't quite believe it. "Had one of the other kids trying to help you escape, even. I bet you miss her."

Lexa swallowed. She did miss Anya. And Clarke... she couldn't even let herself think about Clarke, because it hurt too much. Missing Clarke felt like being the hungriest she'd ever been, only not just in her stomach but her whole body. She balled her hands into fists under the table, digging her nails into her palms so that she could focus on that pain instead of the one that would eat her alive if she wasn't careful. 

"We don't want to keep you here, Lexa," the woman said. "We really don't. But one of the key points in this trial is the mistreatment of the children that were in the cu—in the membership's care, and we have some documentation of it, but what we don't have is firsthand accounts, because no one is talking. And I understand that that's what they told you to do. If you were ever captured, you weren't supposed to say anything. Right?"

Lexa clenched her jaw so she didn't nod. The question was probably meant to be rhetorical, anyway. 

"I think you know that what happened to you there isn't normal. I think maybe you know that some of the things that they taught you weren't right." 

Lexa fought against the squirm that crawled up her spine, tensing her muscles and then trying to release them without anyone seeing. She _did_ know, now that she'd gone to a regular school – a _real_ school – that a lot of what she'd been taught was, it not completely wrong, at least a twisted version of the truth. And if that was true of history lessons and that sort of thing, what else... 

"I've seen your test scores, Lexa. I know that you're a very smart girl. Smart enough to know that some of the things that they did to you weren't right, too," the woman said, leaning in closer. "I think you're smart enough to realize that if they're allowed to go free, they'll just find more kids to teach those things to, to train the way that they trained you."

The copper tang of blood filled her mouth as she accidentally bit the inside of her cheek too hard. She hadn't thought about that, but Lexa know that the lawyer was right. If they could go back into the woods, they would find new people, new kids... 

Maybe they would even try to come find her again. Maybe they would try to bring her back. 

"That doesn't have to happen," the lawyer said. "If we know what really happened... we can stop them. We can make sure that they get locked up for a long, long time. We can make sure that no more kids like you get hurt. And then you'll get to go home."

Lexa swallowed, licked her lips. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, but the air just leaked out with no sound behind it. Finally, with the last little bit of it, she asked, "To Miss Becca's?"

"Yes," the lawyer said. "As soon as this is over, you'll go back to your foster home. Back to your family and friends and school... although maybe I shouldn't say that, because that might not be a good incentive." Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. "Just tell us what happened, and you'll get to go home."

Home. To Anya. To _Clarke_.

"What do you want to know?"


	2. Chapter 2

The day after Thanksgiving, her dad pulled out all the Christmas decorations, just like he did every year. He loved Christmas, and Clarke did, too... usually. But today she didn't feel like decorating, or celebrating, or doing anything fun at all, because Lexa was supposed to be here, and she wasn't. 

She sat on the couch, curled up tight in a ball, and ignored him as he danced around wearing a ridiculous sweater and two pairs of reindeer antlers like some old man in a silly show about a doctor who wasn't really a doctor who traveled through time and space in a big blue phone booth. 

"Are you just going to sulk all day?" her father asked. 

"I'm not sulking," Clarke said. 

"You could have fooled me," Jake replied. "Crossed arms, pouted lip... looks a lot like sulking to me."

"I just don't feel like putting up stupid decorations, okay?" Clarke snapped. "Can I just go to my room? Then you won't have to look at me."

"I'd rather you didn't," he said. "If you don't feel like decorating, maybe we should write your letter to Santa."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Santa isn't real, Dad," she said. "Neither is the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy. So there's no point in writing a stupid fake letter to a stupid fake man that you can't even mail anywhere because there is no post office in the North Pole." 

Her father's shoulders slumped, and for a second she felt bad, but then she decided she didn't care because why should anyone be happy right now? "Well, your Nana asked us yesterday what you wanted for Christmas, so maybe you can make a list for her?"

"I want Lexa back," Clarke said. "That's all I want."

"Clarke—"

"That's all I want!" she said again, louder. "If you can't give me that, then I don't want Christmas at all! And if you already bought me stuff, you can just return it, or give it to other kids. There are kids whose parents can't get them stuff for Christmas, so just give it to them."

Maybe one of her presents would even get to Lexa, if she was in some foster home somewhere that wasn't as good as Miss Becca's. Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away hard. When her father tried to reach for her, she squirmed away. "I mean it, Dad," Clarke said. "I don't want anything. Tell Nana. Tell everyone who asks, I want them to give a present to someone who actually wants Christmas and won't get it. Okay?"

"Okay," he said. "I'll tell them."

"Now can I go to my room?"

He sighed and slid the antlers from his head. "Go ahead, kiddo. I'll be here if you change your mind." 

"I won't," she muttered as she climbed the stairs, sealing herself off from the rest of the world, the click of the lock on her door the at the end of the sentence.

* * *

Anya had barely stepped into the house when Miss Becca looked up from her laptop. "Go upstairs," she said. 

"What?" Anya kicked off her shoes and put her coat on its peg with a little too much force, knocking one of the littles' coats off in the process. She picked it up out of habit. "Why?" What the hell had she done that got her sent to her room the second she set foot inside? Had the school called about something? She hadn't skipped any classes or mouthed off to any of her teachers or gotten into any fights. She'd turned in all of her homework, passed all of her tests... her worst grade was a B+, for fuck's sake, and that was because of a stupid group project for which she'd done her part but the rest of her group had slacked on, and she hadn't had time to fix it before it was due. 

"There's something in your room that I think you'll want to see," Miss Becca said, and when she looked up she was smiling. She reached out to take the coat from Anya's hands. "Go on."

A weird flutter went through her. There was only one thing that it could be... right? But it was impossible... wasn't it? When people left, they didn't come back, and Lexa had been gone for nearly a month. They'd taken her before Thanksgiving and it was nearly Christmas. She looked at Miss Becca for a long time, and her smile widened. "Go on," she said again. "Don't keep her waiting."

Anya took the stairs two a time, bursting into her - _their_ \- room, and sure enough, Lexa was waiting for her, sitting on the edge of her bed with that preternatural stillness that it seemed like kids shouldn't be capable of. She turned to look at Anya, but before she could do or say anything else, Anya swooped down on her, tackling her back onto the bed and pulling her into a full-body hug that she didn't release until Anya was sure that she wouldn't start bawling. 

"Who the heck has been doing your hair?" she teased, looking at the fuzzy tangle on Lexa's head in mock-horror... although it really was pretty bad. 

"I have," Lexa mumbled. 

"You've clearly got a lot to learn, little girl," Anya said. She smoothed back a strand that had worked itself loose from her... well, Anya guessed they were supposed to be braids. "It's okay," she added. "I'll fix it." 

Lexa nodded, her face pressed hard into Anya's collarbone, her fingers dug into her back. Anya ran her hands lightly over her back and down her arms, tilting up her face to inspect her for injuries, but she seemed all right. Quiet like she had been when she'd first arrived, but otherwise okay. "I missed you," Anya whispered to her, needing her to know. 

"I missed you too," Lexa whispered back. For a second Anya thought she would say more, but then she closed her mouth and just burrowed harder into her. So Anya held her until she stopped shaking, and then for a little while after that for good measure.

* * *

Lexa straightened when she heard the door open again and the excited high voices of the littles chattering to Miss Becca about their day at school. If they were home, that meant that her bus had arrived, and—

"Go," Anya said with a laugh, sticking a bookmark between the pages even though they were in the middle of a chapter. "We'll finish tonight. I have some homework to do anyway." She nudged Lexa, and she didn't need any more encouragement than that. 

"Go on," Miss Becca said, from where she was crouched in the hallway, fighting with the zipper of one of the littles' coats, which he'd managed to get hopelessly stuck. 

Lexa grabbed her own jacket, jamming her arms into the sleeves and fumbling with the zipper as she ran toward the road, barely glancing to make sure nothing was coming before she charged across at an angle, taking the shortest route possible to Clarke's door. 

She poked the doorbell, trying to keep still and not dance from foot to foot as she waited. Dr. Abby's car was in the driveway, so Clarke had to be home, didn't she? But what if—

The door opened, and before Lexa managed to get a good look at her face, Clarke had crashed into her, hugging her so tight it felt like her lungs were being squeezed, but she didn't care. She didn't care because it was Clarke, and she was home, and for the first time since the night she'd been taken away from Miss Becca's, she felt like she could breathe again. 

"Come in," Clarke said, her breath puffs of warmth against Lexa's cheek. "Come in, come in, come in! Mom!" 

Lexa grimaced as Clarke shouted in her ear, but she stepped inside anyway, already kicking off her boots and lining them up neatly next to Clarke's and sliding out of her jacket, which was complicated by the fact that Clarke didn't seem inclined to let go of her hand. 

"Mom!" Clarke called again. "Lexa's here! Lexa's home!" 

Dr. Abby poked her head into the hallway and smiled. "Hello, Lexa," she said. "Welcome home. We've missed you."

Lexa swallowed, switching which hand Clarke held so that she could hang up her coat on its peg... which wasn't necessarily for her specifically, except no one else ever put anything there since she'd started spending so much time here. That's what Clarke said, anyway. "I missed you too," she said, looking at Clarke. 

"Have you had a snack?" Dr. Abby asked. "We've got some Christmas cookies."

"Peanut butter with Hersey kisses," Clarke said. "My favorite."

"Okay," Lexa said. She followed Clarke into the kitchen and they climbed onto the stools at the breakfast bar while Dr. Abby put some cookies on a plate – the Hershey kiss ones Clarke had mentioned as well as other kinds – and got them glasses of milk. Usually they were responsible for getting their own snacks, but today wasn't a usual day. 

"Where did you go?" Clarke asked, her mouth full of chocolate. Crumbs spilled down her chin. "They said you were coming back, but I didn't believe them, because Anya didn't believe them."

"I came back," Lexa said. "I went... to another place. Another foster home. For a while. But I came back." She swallowed, trying not to frown or do anything that would make Clarke worry or ask more questions. She wasn't sure if she was even allowed to talk about where she'd been or why, but even if she was, she didn't want to. Clarke still didn't know about where she'd come from – not much, anyway – and Lexa thought it was probably better to keep it that way. Especially now that it was over. "What did I miss at school?"

She relaxed a little as Clarke gave her the rundown on everything that had happened in the past four weeks: the books they'd read, the projects they'd done, the topics they'd covered in math in science, who liked who and who didn't like who anymore and who had gotten in trouble for what. It sounded like a lot had happened, but it was hard for Lexa to hold on to any of the details even though she tried. 

It was easy to hold on to Clarke, though. It was easy, when the cookies were gone, to move from the kitchen to the family room, to curl up on the couch with her, their two bodies sharing one cushion. It was easy to let Clarke rest her head on her shoulder, and it was easy to rub her own cheek against Clarke's hair, their fingers still intertwined. 

When Mr. Jake got home, he didn't seem surprised to see her. Lexa guessed that Dr. Abby had already told him that she'd come back. He just came up behind the couch and ruffled Clarke's hair, then hers, and gave them both kisses on the head like he usually did, and Lexa blinked hard to keep the tears that pricked her eyes from leaking out. "It's good to have you back, kiddo," he said when they got up to help him make dinner (Miss Becca had already said it was okay for her to stay), and then he didn't say anything more about it. 

After dinner, Clarke started begging her parents to let her spend the night, but they said no, it was a school night, and they were sure that Miss Becca would want Lexa home for her first night back. Clarke had started to protest, but Lexa had squeezed her hand hard and shook her head. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said softly. "I promise." 

Clarke hugged her so hard for so long that Lexa stopped being able to tell whose heartbeat was whose, and she decided it was a feeling that she liked, even though it made outside feel so much colder, the walk back across the street so much darker and longer and lonelier. She went straight to her room when she got back, taking a shower and getting into her pajamas without being told, before the littles even had their baths.

* * *

Anya looked up from her homework as Lexa climbed into bed. "Long day?" she asked. Lexa nodded. "You still want to finish that chapter?" Lexa nodded again, and Anya closed her textbook and got up. "You want me to do your hair first?" Anya asked. Lexa nodded a third time, but this time Anya raised her eyebrows. 

"Yes please," Lexa said. Her voice sounded strange, soft and small, like a few weeks away had undone all the progress she'd made since her arrival at the beginning of the summer. It made Anya's heart hurt, but she just smiled and picked up Lexa's hairbrush, sitting on the edge of her bed and waiting for Lexa to disentangle herself from the blankets and turn around. 

Anya drew it out maybe longer than she needed to, but it helped ease the ache in her chest to go through the familiar motions of brushing and parting and braiding Lexa's hair, careful and intricate so that she would look extra special for her first day back at school. When she was done, they finished the chapter they'd started earlier, and then read two more before Lexa's yawns threatened to unhinge her jaw. "Okay," Anya said. "Enough for tonight. More tomorrow." 

"Thank you," Lexa said as Anya tucked her in, even leaning down to kiss her forehead, which was probably more a mom thing than a big sister thing, but Anya didn't care, and she didn't think Lexa did either. Anya switched off the overhead light, using the light of her desk lamp to finish up her homework before trying to sleep herself.

She woke up sometime after midnight and immediately looked over to check on Lexa. Her bed was empty, and for a second Anya thought it had all been a dream, that Lexa wasn't back after all. But the sheets were all rumpled, and it had been made while she was gone. She'd probably just needed to use the bathroom.

When she still wasn't back a few minutes later, Anya sat up, and then stood, going out to the hall. The bathroom door was open; there was no one inside. The lights were off downstairs, but she went down to check anyway, thinking maybe Lexa had wanted a snack but hadn't wanted to give herself away. But the kitchen was empty, as was the living room and everywhere else she checked.

Anya raced up the stairs as quickly and quietly as she could, not wanting to wake up the other kids, but knowing that she didn't have any choice now: she had to tell Miss Becca. She rapped her knuckles against the door, then barged in without waiting for an answer. 

Miss Becca pushed herself up on one elbow, frowning in confusion. "Anya? What's wrong?"

"Where's Lexa?"

"Where's...?" She sat up straighter, reaching to switch on the lamp next to her bed. "She's not in your room?"

Anya shook her head. "She's not in the bathroom or downstairs, either. I even checked the basement." Even though they never went down there because it was musty and full of cobwebs. Miss Becca kept saying she should get it finished to give them more room, but it never happened. 

"Okay," Miss Becca said. "All right, it's—"

"It's not okay!" Anya snapped. "She's _gone_."

Her foster mother's lips pressed together in a thin line. "I know it's not okay, Anya. But let's not panic yet. I'm going to call the Griffins and see if she's over there. Maybe she snuck out to go over to see Clarke." 

"Maybe," Anya said, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Should I just go over there?"

"No," Miss Becca said, "you should not." She picked up her phone and tapped on the screen a few times before bringing it to her ear. "Hi, Abby. I'm so sorry to bother you this late, but do you mind checking to see if maybe our daughters conspired to circumvent the rules and have a sleepover even though you said no?" Her tone was light, like this wasn't an emergency at all, and it made Anya want to punch things. How could she act like this wasn't a big deal, like disappearing in the middle of the night was something that little girls did from time to time? 

"Okay," Miss Becca said after an excruciating few minutes of silence. "I appreciate you checking. We'll—no, that's all right, we're just—" She sighed. "Okay. Thank you." She hung up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. 

"Well?" Anya asked, and her heart plunged when Miss Becca shook her head. 

"I still don't think we need to panic," she said. "She can't have been gone long; I was downstairs until about an hour ago, and there's just no way she could have snuck out while I was down there." 

"An hour is a long time!" Anya said. "It's cold out, and dark, and she's little." 

"'Though she be but little, she is fierce,'" Miss Becca quoted. "We'll find her."

"Are you going to call the cops?" Anya asked, her heart now leaping up into her throat. 

Miss Becca shook her head. "Not yet. The last thing we need – she needs – right now is more involvement from the authorities, or anyone thinking that I can't take care of her properly. We're going to check the house again, and Abby and Jake are going to check their house, just in case, and..." She trailed off. "We'll find her," she said finally. "I promise."

"If we don't," Anya said, "you have no one to blame but yourself."

* * *

Lexa wrapped her arms around herself more tightly and wiggled her toes in her boots. They were cold, but she didn't think it was cold enough for her to get frostbite. She'd put on an extra pair of socks just to be safe. Probably she should have put on warmer pants than just her pajamas, but she hadn't wanted to move around too much and risk waking Anya up. 

It was cold up here, but she could take it. She had to. It was the only way to keep everyone safe. Because even though they _said_ that everyone from the compound had been locked up, how could they really be sure? There had been people who were there all the time, and she was sure that they'd gotten them, but what about the members who _hadn't_ spent all their time in the woods? What about the ones who only came sometimes? Had they gotten them? And if they hadn't, would they be mad enough to come after Lexa, since she was the one who talked first... or maybe the only one who talked at all? The lawyers and everyone had made it sound like she wasn't, that once she'd talked others had too, but maybe they'd just said that to make her feel better. 

Really, she should leave completely, go somewhere where no one would ever find her, but she didn't know where that might be, and she hadn't had time to learn everything she needed to know to survive completely on her own. This was the next best thing. From up here, she could see Miss Becca's house, and Clarke's house of course, so if anyone came and tried to get to them, to use them to get to her, she would hopefully see them coming and be able to stop it. 

It would just be a lot easier to keep watch if she wasn't so busy shivering and trying to keep her eyes open. 

She heard a noise and froze, looking around as best she could without moving. She reached into her pocket slowly and drew out a knife, flipping open the blade and clutching it in her gloved hand. It wouldn’t stop someone unless she got a really lucky shot, but it would hopefully slow them down. Especially if she went for the eyes. That was another advantage to this vantage point; if anyone tried to come after her, she would see them before they saw her, and that gave her the upper hand even if they were bigger than her... and who wasn't? 

"Lexa?" The voice was soft, or at least not shouting, but obviously whoever was calling didn't know that she was up here; they were just hoping that she would answer. It sounded like Clarke's dad, but it might be someone who sounded like him, or maybe someone was making him call for her to lure her down. Maybe she hadn't been paying close enough attention and they'd already gotten to the Griffins. Maybe they'd gotten to Clarke. The thought made her squirm, wanting to peek out and see what was happening, make sure that everything was okay and her friend was safe.

She heard feet scuffing through the dried leaves that hadn't gotten raked up yet, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from making a sound, holding the knife in the other, blade pointed toward the ladder. 

Mr. Jake's head popped up over the ledge, and Lexa scrambled up, off her butt into a crouch so she could move quickly if she needed to. 

"Hey," he said, stopping, holding up one hand, the other staying on the ladder. "Hey, Lexa. It's okay. It's just me." 

Lexa swallowed, but didn't lower the knife. He might just be saying that. He might be lulling her into a false sense of security. He might...

"Anya and Miss Becca are pretty worried about you," he said. "Anya woke up and you were gone, and that scared her." 

"I'm okay," Lexa said, only it came up as just a jumble of sounds because her teeth were chattering and her lips felt frozen. 

"It's pretty cold out here," Mr. Jake said. "Not really a good night for a treehouse sleepover. What do you say we go inside and have some cocoa?"

Lexa shook her head. 

"I know you're scared," Mr. Jake said. "I don't know why, but I know that you are. But you're safe, Lexa. I promise you, you're safe. You're home now, and we're all going to take care of you and make sure that no one takes you away again. Okay?"

She shook her head again. He was lying. Maybe he _thought_ he was telling the truth, but he was lying. They couldn't make sure that she didn't get taken away. If someone really wanted her, they wouldn't care what it took to get her. They would hurt anyone who got in their way. 

"Cl-l-l-lar-r-rke," she stammered. 

"Clarke's inside," he said. "She's in bed, asleep. Just like you should be." He climbed up another step. "Why don't you give me the knife and we'll go inside, and you can see her. You can see that she's safe." 

Lexa's eyes filled with tears, where they ran down her cheeks the only warm part of her until they started to freeze, too. "I'll g-g-g-get h-her h-h-hurt." 

"No you won't," Mr. Jake said. "It's our job to keep her safe, and we're going to make sure that we do. That's not something that you need to worry about." 

_But it is!_ she wanted to shout. _It is something I have to worry about! I care about her, and that's what they do – they use the people you care about against you. When you love someone, they're a weakness!_

But she couldn't get the words out. She couldn't explain. And when Mr. Jake climbed all the way up and took the knife from her hand, she couldn't stop him. Not without hurting him, and she didn't want to hurt him. She didn't want to hurt _anyone_ , and she didn't want anyone to be hurt because of her, and...

"Come on," he said. "I'm going to climb down, and you're going to climb down right after me, okay? I'll be right there so you don't fall." 

She wasn't afraid of falling... except she couldn't really feel her feet and she couldn't move her hands very well, either, and that scared her more than the potential enemies that were maybe lurking out there somewhere... or maybe not. She let Mr. Jake help her down, rung by rung until he was on the ground and he reached up and plucked her off, carrying her like she was one of the littles, across the yard and inside. 

"Call Becca," he said. "Tell her we've got her."

"Already on it," Dr. Abby said. "I saw you coming down." 

"Does she want us to bring her back right now?" 

"She wants to talk to her," Dr. Abby said. "Lexa?" She held out the phone.

Mr. Jake was still holding her, and Lexa didn't mean to cling but her muscles had forgotten how to let go. Finally Abby tapped the screen and said, "She's right here, Becca. You're on speaker."

Lexa didn't think Miss Becca liked that very much. She could hear that she was mad even though she was trying to sound like she wasn't. "What were you doing in the treehouse, Lexa?" she asked. "Why did you sneak out?"

"She's having a hard time talking," Mr. Jake said. "She's pretty cold. I was thinking we could get her warmed up and figure things out from there."

There was a long pause, and then Miss Becca said, "Fine," in the kind of voice that adults used when they meant the opposite. "I'll talk to you soon." She hung up. 

Dr. Abby popped a thermometer into Lexa's mouth, frowning when she read the result. "It could be worse," she said, "but it could be better. Come here, sweetie. Let's get you warmed up. Jake is going to make some cocoa." 

Lexa let Dr. Abby peel off her hat and jacket and gloves and scarf and boots, and let her wrap her in a blanket and rub her hands and feet until they started to feel less like icicles and more like fingers and toes. She wrapped her hands around the mug of cocoa when Mr. Jake gave it to her and took a sip. She didn't know, but he somehow always managed to make it just the right temperature so you could drink it without burning your mouth and she started to feel warmer from the inside out. 

"Clarke?" she asked when she was done. 

"Do you want to see her?" Dr. Abby asked. "She's still asleep." 

Lexa nodded, and let Dr. Abby hold her hand as they climbed the stairs. She opened the door to Clarke's room, and she was there, cuddled under her covers, her arms wrapped around a stuffed lion she'd had since she was a baby. It had been Leo when she was little, because that what its tag said, but she'd since changed its name to Godric. 

Lexa took a step forward, and Dr. Abby let her go. "It's all right," she said. "Go on. We'll tell Miss Becca it's okay." 

It wasn't okay, probably. It wouldn't be. But right now... right now all she wanted was to be Godric. And that scared her more than anything... but not enough to make her run away even though she knew she should. 

She climbed into Clarke's bed with her and heard the door close as Dr. Abby left to go tell her foster mother that they were having a sleepover after all, even though it was a school night. 

Clarke stirred, her nose and forehead wrinkling. "Lexa?"

"It's okay," Lexa said. "Go back to sleep."

"What are you doing here?" Clarke asked. 

Lexa shrugged. "I just needed to see you. I need to keep you safe." Even though she was probably doing exactly the opposite.

"From what?" Clarke asked. "The people who took you?"

Lexa shrugged again, then nodded, then shook her head. "From anyone who might hurt you," she said finally. 

"Oh," Clarke said, and Lexa didn't think she really understood, but she didn't want to explain more, and Clarke didn't ask. She just put Godric to the side and slid over, taking Lexa's hands only to let go a split-second later. "You're so cold!" she said, grabbing them again and pressing them between her own. "It's okay," she said. "I'll keep you warm." She pulled Lexa closer, wrapping around her so that all of her warmth could seep through Lexa's pajamas and into her skin. "I'll keep you safe, too," she whispered. "You're mine, and I'm yours, and no one is ever going to take that away from us again."

Maybe she was a fool. Maybe it made her weak, but Lexa believed her.


	3. Chapter 3

When Lexa woke up, it was already past time to catch the bus, and no one had woken them. She could hear voices downstairs, and they didn't sound happy. Her heart skipped a beat, then knocked harder against her ribcage, because what it they were back? Someone from the community, or someone from child protection. Someone who wanted to take her away. 

What if Miss Becca had called them and said that she didn't want her anymore? 

She'd left in the middle of the night, after all, and made trouble for her and the Griffins by hiding in the treehouse. And she hadn't sounded happy when Mr. Jake (or maybe it was Dr. Abby, the details were fuzzy in her head already) had said they were going to get her warmed up and they would call her later. She wasn't allowed to have sleepovers on school nights, but here she was waking up next to Clarke, and now missing school, and...

She wriggled carefully out from under the arm Clarke had draped over her, pushing back the blankets and then tucking them back around her friend once she'd gotten her legs free, not wanting any cold air to get to Clarke and wake her up. Clarke's nose wrinkled and she started to roll over. Lexa darted around to the other side of the bed, grabbing Godric and sneaking him into Clarke's arms, which she tightened around him and settled again. 

One crisis averted, Lexa crept to the door and turned the knob as slowly as she could so the latch wouldn't click, opening it only wide enough to squeeze herself through before shutting it again just as quietly. She inched her way to the top of the stairs, focusing on the voices to hear not only what they were saying, but who was saying it.

Without the door in the way, it was easy to tell that it was only Miss Becca, Dr. Abby, and Mr. Jake talking, and that was a relief... except they were obviously talking about her, and they didn't sound happy. 

"We need to know what's going on with her," Dr. Abby said. "And don't tell us that it has nothing to do with us, because obviously it does. She was on _our_ property."

"I understand that," Miss Becca said. "I understand that you're concerned, and I am too. I don't know why she snuck out like that, why she hid in the treehouse. I can make a guess, but she's the only one who knows for sure."

"I think you know more than you're saying," Dr. Abby said. 

"We only want to help her," Mr. Jake said. "But we also need to take care of our daughter and make sure that she's safe. And Lexa had this." 

There was a silence, the kind so heavy you could feel it like a weight on you. Lexa could feel it even up here, and she couldn't see what Mr. Jake was showing them. 

"Not just in her pocket," Mr. Jake added. "It wasn't just a coincidence that she happened to have it in her pocket. She had it in her hand, blade out, aimed at me. She looked like she meant to use it."

Her knife. He was talking about her knife, the knife that she'd had to protect herself, to protect them all. The knife he'd taken from her, and she'd let him. She hadn't wanted to... except maybe she did, a little, because she'd been so cold and her hand hurt from holding it and... 

Did they think that she would have hurt them? That wasn't why...

"I'm sorry," Miss Becca said. "I don't know where she got it. I didn't know she still had it. I'll—"

"I'm less concerned about her having it and more concerned about why she felt like she needed it," Mr. Jake said. "Who does she—"

" _I'm_ concerned about her having it," Dr. Abby said. "She's a _child_. A little girl. One who right now is in our daughter's room, in our daughter's bed, and—"

Lexa couldn't take it anymore. They had it all wrong, or at least Dr. Abby did. She made her way down the stairs, quiet because she was always quiet, and padded into the kitchen where they were all gathered. The tile was cold under her feet, but she didn't let herself shiver. "I wouldn't hurt her," she blurted. "Clarke. I wouldn't ever hurt Clarke. I wouldn't hurt any of you. I—" She swallowed, bit the inside of her lip. 

They all looked at her like they didn't quite recognize her, and she bit down harder, tasting the thick copper tang of blood. "I didn't mean to scare you," she said softly, to all of them but mostly to Mr. Jake. "I..." But she couldn't force the words out. She didn't want them to know that she wasn't just a normal girl... except it was probably too late for that. If they thought she was dangerous - _knew_ she was dangerous – they wouldn't want her around Clarke anymore. 

She'd gotten to come home, and then she'd ruined it all. Just like that. 

"We know you wouldn't," Mr. Jake said. He was still holding the knife, its blade tucked in so it was harmless. Unlike her. He crouched down so that he could look her in the eye. "We just want to understand why you were hiding in the treehouse last night."

Lexa looked at Miss Becca, then looked toward the stairs, but she could only see the bottom of them from here. Was Clarke still asleep? Was she lurking up there listening like Lexa had? Would her knowing really be so bad? If she knew, would they still be friends? Or would Clarke want to find a new best friend? One that didn't do strange things. One that didn't get taken away for a month. 

If she didn't have Clarke, she would be alone. Sure, she would have Anya at home, but Anya didn't go to her school, and she was older and eventually she would get bored of spending time with Lexa and then what? 

Maybe she never should have come back. Maybe they would all be better off if she hadn't. 

But maybe if she just told them, maybe if they understood... maybe it could still be okay. Maybe she could keep her best friend, keep her family, keep her home. 

"I just got scared," she said softly. "I got scared that someone would try to come get me again, and... and I thought that if I wasn't at home, if they couldn't find me, maybe they would... just go away, or..." Lexa swallowed. It was a version of the truth, but it wasn't the whole truth. It was only a fraction of the truth, but maybe it would be enough.

"That's not going to happen," Miss Becca said. "Now that the—now that it's over—"

"Now that _what_ is over?" Dr. Abby asked. 

Miss Becca frowned. She glanced down at Lexa, then looked back at Dr. Abby. "She was taken because there was a trial for her former caregivers," she said. "She was needed to testify, but they also wanted to keep her in protective custody for the duration of the trial so that there was no chance of anyone getting to her and trying to intimidate her and prevent her from speaking. Now it's over, so she was able to come home."

So Lexa wasn't the only one who knew how to tell the truth so that it was true but not the whole story. 

Dr. Abby and Mr. Jake both looked at her, and she looked down at her feet, then forced herself to look up, to look back at them because she needed to know what they were thinking. She needed to know if they were deciding that she wasn't good enough to be around their daughter. That she was too broken, too damaged, too wild, too... whatever. 

Mostly they just looked sad. Sad and maybe a little angry, but Lexa didn't think that it was her they were angry at. Maybe it was Miss Becca, for bringing her here, for not telling them the truth about her in the first place. Maybe they were mad at the people they thought had hurt her. The people who _had_ hurt her, but only so that she would be stronger when she needed to be. 

Mr. Jake, still kneeling next to her, was the first one to say something. "I'm sorry that that happened to you," he said. "That must have been very scary."

Lexa didn't know if he was talking about the trial or the group home or about her life before she came here. Maybe all three. She shrugged. "It's okay," she said. What else was there to say? 

"No, it's not," Dr. Abby said. "It's not okay. What happened to you—" She stopped, her mouth curving down hard and lines forming in between her eyebrows as she frowned. "We're glad that you're home now, Lexa." 

Lexa wasn't sure she should believe her. She wasn't sure that Dr. Abby was glad at all. She thought that maybe she was still trying to figure out a way to keep Clarke safe from her, even though she'd said, she'd _sworn_ , that she would never hurt Clarke, and she meant it. She meant it more than anything she'd ever said in her life. 

"It's okay to be scared," Mr. Jake said. "But running away—"

"I didn't!" Lexa said, too loud, then pressed her lips together, hard, and forced herself to take a breath and lower her voice. "I didn't run _away_ ," she said. "I was right there." She looked toward the big glass doors that led out to the back yard and the treehouse, then looked at Miss Becca. "I was going to come back in the morning."

Miss Becca sighed. "It's not safe to spend the night outside like that," she said. "It's too cold. If Jake hadn't found you..." She shook her head. "You can't do that," she said, in the voice she used when she really meant something, and if you didn't listen you were going to be in trouble. The voice she used with Murphy a lot. "You can't leave the house without permission. I need to know where you are at all times. If anyone were to find out that I'd lost track of you, even for a couple of hours, or if anything had happened to you, even if it ended up all right, and the state found out, they could take you away again. If they think that I can't take care of you, they will find somewhere else that they think can. Technically, I shouldn't even be letting you spend the night here."

"What?" Dr. Abby asked. "Why not?"

"With foster children, anyone who watches them – even on a temporary basis – are supposed to have a state certification, if not as a full foster parent than has a respite care worker. Foster kids can't just go on sleepovers like other kids. I've made an exception because I've known you for a long time, and I didn't have any reason to believe that it would become an issue, but now—"

"Tell us what we need to do and we'll do it," Mr. Jake said. "We'll take whatever classes we need to, go through whatever checks we need to."

Miss Becca nodded. "I'll get you the information," she said. "But Lexa, we still need to know where you are. _I_ need to know where you are. You need to promise that you won't do anything like that again. You need to trust—"

"Why?" 

Lexa whipped around to see Clarke storming into the kitchen, her hair a tangled golden cloud around her head. "Why?" Clarke demanded again. "Why should she trust you? You already let her be stolen once! Why should she trust you at all about anything?"

"Clarke," Lexa said softly, reaching for her hand, pulling her to her side and holding on. "It's okay."

"No it's not!" Clarke said. "They let—"

"They had to," Lexa said. "I came back. They just want to make sure that I won't get taken again."

"We all want the same thing," Mr. Jake said. "We all want Lexa to be safe."

"Here," Clarke said. "We all want Lexa to be safe _here_."

"Yes," Miss Becca said. "We want Lexa to be safe here. And I know that letting her be taken away makes it harder for you – both of you – to trust that we can keep her safe, but I hope that we – I – can earn that trust back. But I need you both to promise that you'll follow the rules and not sneak out, so that no one has any reason to think that we aren't doing the best job we can looking out for Lexa and keeping her safe." 

"I promise," Lexa said. She meant it... for now. But if she really thought she was in danger, or that she was putting Anya or Clarke in danger... promises were just words, and some things were more important than words. 

"I promise too," Clarke said, more grudgingly. "But she can still come over, right? She can still spend the night."

"When Miss Becca says it's okay," Mr. Jake said. "And not on school nights. This was a one-time exception."

"How long does the process to become a respite care person take?" Dr. Abby asked. "Is she not going to be allowed to—"

"I don't know off the top of my head," Miss Becca said, "but no. It's been fine this far, and I think that changing things now over a technicality would do more harm than good. As long as you're okay with it—"

"We're okay with it," Mr. Jake said. Dr. Abby didn't look quite so sure, but she didn't contradict him. Clarke squeezed Lexa's hand, hard, and she squeezed back. "Are things settled then? Can we get on with the day?"

Miss Becca sighed. "For now. Come on, Lexa, let's—"

Clarke's fingers tightened around Lexa's so hard enough that it hurt. "We're already missing school," she said. "Can't she just stay?"

Lexa watched as the adults has a conversation with their eyes. Miss Becca looked a little annoyed – maybe more than a little – but finally she sighed. "Not in her pajamas," she said. "Once she's changed into regular clothes, she can come back." 

Clarke looked at Lexa, the same little wrinkles showing between her eyebrows as Dr. Abby got when she was worried. "Promise?" she asked, her voice soft. 

Lexa nodded, and reached up with her free hand to smooth the lines away. "I'll be back soon," she said. "Promise." The last was said in a whisper, and then she disentangled her fingers from Clarke's. She put her coat and boots back on and followed Miss Becca across the street. 

Once the were inside again, she waited for her foster mother to explode, to yell at her and punish her for what she'd done. She waited for a long time, or at least it felt long, standing in the hallway while Miss Becca went to the kitchen. When she didn't come back, Lexa tiptoed to the kitchen doorway and peered in.

Miss Becca looked up from the breakfast dishes, which she was putting in the dishwasher. "Did you need something?" she asked. 

Lexa bit her lip. Maybe it was stupid to go looking for punishment, but better to get it over with than to give Miss Becca more time to stew and think of something even worse to make her pay for what she'd done. But Miss Becca was just watching her expectantly, waiting for her to say something, she guessed, or do something. "You're not mad?" she finally asked. 

Miss Becca sighed again. Not the kind that you could hear, but Lexa could see it in the way that her shoulders rose, then fell. "Being mad doesn't do either of us any good," she said. "I was upset, yes. You scared me, and you scared Anya. You put me in a bad position. If anything had happened to you..." She shook her head. "But nothing happened, and you've promised that you won't do it again," which was accompanied by a stern look, "so for now, I think it's better for all of us to just try to put it all behind us and figure out the best way to move forward so that you feel safe, and won't feel like you need to do something like that again. Okay?"

"Okay," Lexa said. She took half a step backward, ready to go upstairs and change. 

"I _will_ be making an appointment for after the holidays for you to speak to someone about it," Miss Becca added. 

Lexa grimaced. She guessed there were worse punishments. "Yes ma'am," she said. 

"Now go get changed," Miss Becca said. "I'm sure that Clarke is already starting to wonder where you are."

"Yes ma'am," Lexa said again, and went upstairs to put on clean clothes. After she'd changed, she made her bed, and then found a piece of paper and wrote a note:

 

_Anya,_

_I'm sorry I scared you. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to keep everyone safe and I thought if I wasn't here it would be better, but I guess I was wrong. I was going to come back in the morning anyway. Please don't be mad at me._

♥ _Lexa_

 

She folded it in half and put Anya's name on the outside, then propped it against her foster sister's pillow. 

Miss Becca watched from the door as she walked across the street again. When she glanced back from the Griffins' door, she was still standing there, so Lexa waved, and she waved back before going inside. 

"We're making cupcakes," Clarke said, pulling her into the kitchen as soon as her boots were off. "For the party tomorrow."

"What party?" Lexa asked. 

"At school!" Clarke said. "The holiday party at school! Tomorrow is the last day before winter break and we're having a party and we're going to watch a movie and do our—" She stopped, her eyes going wide. "Oh no."

"What?" Lexa asked. 

Clarke's eyes were bright, swimming with tears, and Lexa's heart and fists clenched, not sure if she'd done something wrong or if someone else had, but whatever it was, she wanted – needed – to fix it. She didn't like seeing Clarke upset, ever, about anything. 

"No one took your name for Secret Santa," she said. "Mr. Beach didn't include you because he didn't know if you were going to be back, and he didn't want someone else to get left out if you weren't because if someone had your name then you would have to have someone's name, and—"

"I don't even know what you're talking about," Lexa said. "What's Secret Santa?"

"Oh," Clarke said. "Right. It's when you pick someone's name and someone else picks your name and you get them a gift that you think they'll like but they don't know who it's from, because it's a secret."

"Oh," Lexa echoed, then shrugged. "I don't care," she said. 

"But it's not fair," Clarke said. "It's not fair for you to be left out. I tried to tell him, but—"

"I don't care," Lexa said again. "Clarke, really, I don't." She reached up and touched Clarke's cheek where a tear had escaped, brushing it away. "Mr. Beach was right. It wouldn't be fair for someone else to get left out if I didn't come back."

"I'll get you something," Clarke said. "It won't be a secret, but—"

"I don't need anything," Lexa said. "Clarke, really. I don't."

"Yes you do," Clarke insisted. "I say you do."

Lexa knew better than to argue with Clarke when she was like this. She tried not to smile at how stubborn her friend could be when she decided on something; it was one of her worst qualities, but also one of her best. After all, one of the first thing she'd decided was that they were going to be friends, and that was the best thing that had ever happened to Lexa. "Didn't you say something about cupcakes?"

The rest of the day passed quickly – too quickly – in a blur of cupcakes and cookies and Christmas decorations, and when it was time for Lexa to go home, Clarke held on to her too tight for too long... which was not tight enough and not long enough at the same time. They whispered promises that they would see each other in the morning, and then Lexa went home to face the chaos of dinner with Murphy and the littles. 

That night Anya stayed in her bed even after they'd finished reading, her arm around Lexa, rubbing the end of one of her braids between her fingers. "I'm not mad at you," she said after a long, heavy, silence, "but don't you dare ever do that again unless you absolutely have to." 

Lexa let out a breath, because Anya got it. She understood. She couldn't promise that she would never do it again, but she could promise that she wouldn't do it unless it was the last resort. "I won't," she said. 

"Good." Anya didn't get up even when Lexa settled in to sleep, and after a minute she just scooched down next to her, wrapping an arm over her like Clarke had the night before, and Lexa decided that even though her bed was a lot smaller than Clarke's, she didn't mind sharing, at least not for one night.

* * *

True to her word, Clarke made sure she had a not-so-Secret Santa gift the next day at their class party. It was a set of Harry Potter ornaments: one for each house and one for Hogwarts. Lexa grabbed her hand and squeezed it, not even really trying to hide it from the other students, but they weren't paying much attention to her, except for furtive, wary glances out of the corners of their eyes, because when they'd wanted to know where she'd been for the past month she'd lied and said she was sick, and now no one wanted to get near her because they were afraid they might catch it. 

The next day was Christmas Eve, and the Griffins had a big party that Lexa was invited to, along with Miss Becca and the rest of the kids. Lexa didn't know most of the people there so she stuck close to Clarke, who eventually got permission to go hide in her room for a while after answering the same questions from different people for the millionth time. They emerged when it was time for dinner, and then Miss Becca said it was time to go; it was past the littles' bedtime. 

"I wish you could stay," Clarke said, lacing her fingers through Lexa's and pressing close so they didn't take up the whole doorway. "But I know Mom and Dad will say no if I ask."

"Miss Becca would too," Lexa said. "I would if I could." 

"Ooooh!" Murphy said, looking at them and then pointing up. "You're under the _mistletoe_! You know what _that_ means."

Lexa looked at Clarke, and Clarke looked back at her, and they grinned. "Nargles," they said at the same time, and then they couldn't stop giggling, until finally Murphy got annoyed and walked away. 

"I won't let the Nargles get you," Clarke said, wrapping her arms around Lexa and hugging her tight. 

"I won't let them get you either," Lexa whispered back. "Or anything else." 

Clarke nodded, her forehead against Lexa's, and then their noses brushed and then their lips (because that's what mistletoe _really_ meant), barely a kiss but it tasted like sugar and felt like twinkling lights all through her. 

"Merry Christmas," Clarke said, but Lexa heard something else whispered under the words.

"Merry Christmas," Lexa whispered back. _I love you too._


End file.
